


I’m Reaching Out (you just need to reach back)

by Wealthywetsunny



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Angst, Because of course he is, Bliss Overdose, Burnt Skin, F/M, Joseph gets to play nurse for a bit, Joseph is a strong believer in fate, Near Death Experience, Shared Pain AU, Soulmate AU, The brothers love each other and they show it by kidnapping Rook, badly injured, but Rook makes his life hell, shared emotions au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27050068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wealthywetsunny/pseuds/Wealthywetsunny
Summary: He pants out a heavy breath at the rush of heat that washes over him. Grappling him by the throat and tossing him into the abyss. He touches the nape of his neck where he feels fire. Dear God it hurts.His soulmate reaches for him first. Looking for safety and comfort as their panic grows, reaching a crescendo that sends him to his knees with a cry.
Relationships: Female Deputy | Judge/Joseph Seed
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [9shadowcat9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/9shadowcat9/gifts).



Joseph isn’t scared. He’s seen this coming for a while now, he’s had time to prepare himself. It’d be easier though, he thinks not for the first time, if his soulmate wasn’t a mindless jumble of anxiety right now. 

He tries to soothe them, sends comfort the best he can, but if anything him trying to help only makes it worse. He feels their connection grow bright as they snap at him with rage he’s become accustomed to. The warning is clear enough for him to hesitate. 

_ Leave me alone.  _

He gets it, that they could be anywhere in the world going through whatever form of hell they deem large enough to panic over, and they don't want him trying to calm them down when he can’t possibly understand what’s going on. 

But he’s trying to focus on the law standing before him and he doesn’t have time to handle their pain. It sounds harsh, it is, and he makes a mental note to apologize later for neglecting her. 

Joseph sucks hard on his teeth, agitation pulling taut at every nerve as his flock rallies around him and his family. Willing to protect them at all costs. It’s a beautiful thing, one he takes a moment to bask in before he hears the click of Jacob’s handgun behind him and he has to step in before this gets any worse. 

His soulmate may be putting him through the works tonight (and honestly it’s been that way for the past couple of weeks for reasons he isn’t privy to) but that doesn’t mean he has to do the same to them. He won’t get shot, he won’t let them feel that. They’ve already suffered too much. Lord only knows how strong they must be to put up with the lashings and countless beatings Joseph has endured, or even the numerous times he took a blade to his skin for another sin he so thoughtlessly committed. 

Whatever the case they’re still here in this world. They’ve dealt with the pain thus far and he refuses to make it worse.

So he steps forward, a hand settling on the shoulders of those closest to him as he tells them all to go. This is God’s will. He’ll be okay. 

He doesn’t miss the way a few of his members nearly shoulder check the younger deputy on their way out. Behind him, John snorts through his nose. 

The handcuffs are tight when they loop around his wrists, they don’t leave him an ounce of wiggle room. Though that’s probably the point. They’re bound to cause marks on his own pale skin, to make his soulmate’s wrists throb with phantom aches. 

Joseph sighs noisily as the deputy—Rook, he caught a passing glance of her name tag and heard her friends call her such—slots in behind him. A gloved hand cupping over his shoulder, right above where John had marked Gluttony on him ages ago. 

She can’t be dense, she must realize that she’s torturing his soulmate in extension to himself by tightening the handcuffs, but she no doubt does it on a daily basis. One of the qualms of being a police officer. Having to harm two people instead of the one committing the injustice in front of you. She probably got used to it. 

Joseph would never be able to do something like that. It’s why he’s so careful when he deals with new converts, as well as why he urges John to be more loving in his own methods. Neither of which are easy, especially the latter, but they’ll get there one day. 

“Your people adore you,” she mumbles as they step outside. Her hand shakes, she’s thrumming with energy. Steps faltering as people around them yell and scream, it stings his heart a little having to see his flock’s fear. “It’s, uh, kinda telling.”

Telling...Joseph doesn’t know what she means by that. He doesn’t ask either, now isn’t the time to converse with the woman running with those who want to destroy what he’s built. He already said his piece, right when they walked in. He preached to them. He, so very graciously, gave them an opportunity to walk away. 

Joseph breathes in heavily through his nose, a twinge of regret flaring up inside his belly as he takes note of his people readying their weapons to get him back. He has faith that he’ll be okay. He had meant it when he said that God wouldn’t let anyone pull him away from the project. 

He wished they had more faith. 

Because at the moment they’re gathering rocks to toss and someone that he can’t see fires a gun into the air. Then he’s being pushed towards the helicopter he had heard when he was still preaching moments before. 

He just about digs his feet into the ground, blinded as he gets sucked under by a wave of soul crushing fear. 

Joseph’s never felt anything like it in his life. 

He doubles over, eyes clenching closed behind tinted lenses. Rook has to haul him forward, startled at the sudden stop. Somehow, through gritted teeth and a hell of a lot of determination, she manages to tug him forward. Snarling out a muted “lets go!” 

The emotional pain inside him only builds from there. 

He throws his head back against the leather seat, fingers clasped in his lap as he mutters out a soft prayer. Across from him, he hears Rook shouting through the noise. He’s able to steal a glance at her, how she falls down heavily in her seat and pinches the bridge of her nose. Sighing angrily. 

At what, he doesn’t know. 

Joseph bites his lip, still reeling with his soulmate’s anxiety. He tries his best to reach out again. Searching in the depths of his mind until he finds the chord that binds them. He touches it tentatively, offering himself out there to see if they’re willing to embrace him. And this time they do. 

He tries lending his own feelings of ease, but he can tell how difficult it is for them to make those emotions their own. 

He’s not too sure, but he thinks he hears Rook whimper. If not for the way they quickly go spiraling towards the ground seconds later, he would’ve physically reached out to her and let her know that he’s going to save them all. It’s going to be okay so long as they have faith. 

He blacks out when they hit the ground. 

He isn’t out for long though, and if he was, then he didn’t take the brunt of the impact. In fact compared to everyone else he’d say that he got off easy. He’s the first to wake, with only a few scratches and bruises. And, if he had to guess, a fractured rib. 

Could be worse. 

He tries to move his cuffed hands down to the seatbelt to unlatch himself, but a shock of pain shoots through his wrists. He glances down but nothing is there. 

He’s okay. 

It‘s his soulmate then.

Joseph tries reaching out again, searching for them. Just to ask if they’re okay. They had been so very scared and now they’re injured and not responding. 

Joseph sucks in a deep breath, it hurts his ribs but he needs to calm down. He has to get these handcuffs off. Which is easier than he initially thought. Once he’s out of his seat—that hurt, tumbling out of the upturned chopper—he can rummage through the pockets of everyone until he finds the key. He has to twist his wrist awkwardly to undo the handcuffs, but he gets it. 

He takes a moment leaning against the frame of the helicopter—overturned and half buried in the ground—just to suck in clean air. 

The sound of a startled breath draws him to turn his head slightly. His neck hurts. Either his soulmate’s pain or his, he isn’t sure. 

He watches her—Rook—struggle and panic as she wakes. She doesn’t waste any time, reaching out for the headset dangling from the thin wire attached to the main panel. From where Nancy’s soft, tinny voice barely comes through.

He halts Rook’s futile progress by grabbing her wrist, his hand tightens, anger slipping through for just a second. Her eyes go wide as they scan over his face. Other than her shallow breaths, she’s quiet. 

“You hurt me,” Joseph whispers, brows scrunching down in annoyance. “You hurt my soulmate.” He squeezes her wrist with each word, tossing it away when she whines. “Such a sin is hard to be forgiven, but I will.” He pauses and tips his head towards her. “I must. That’s what fathers do, deputy.” He cups her cheek, more than aware that other people are starting to wake now. He’ll be outnumbered if he doesn’t leave soon, but he’s angry and he wants his message to get across. 

“I'll leave and I’ll let the Lord decide what to do with you.” 

Joseph moves away from her then, ducking his head as he climbs out of the helicopter. The metal is hot to the touch, it burns his hand before he can fully pull away. 

His people were closer than he thought, appearing only moments later. Running through the trees to greet him. He smiles despite the way it pulls at the scratches on his face. He reaches out a hand to touch them, allows them to touch him so as to assuage their fears. 

He’s okay. He’s safe.

He turns back to the helicopter, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “The reaping has begun, my children. Go,” he nods his head with a soft laugh, “it’s time.”

They’re able to grab most of them, two deputies and the sheriff (who has paid Joseph and his family many, many visits in the last few months) before flames rise up high around the chopper, causing his men to jump back and look towards him for direction. 

It’s God's will to let them burn. He tells his flock to leave them. 

Joseph watches with a sort of morbid curiosity and tingling fascination that makes something foreign swirl in his gut. He tips his head to the side. Reaching out and checking in once more with his soulmate when he feels the initial stirring of _something_ _bad_.

They scream. Not that he can hear it of course, it doesn’t work that way, but he feels it. The way they writhe and panic and try to get away. Joseph suddenly has the urge to throw up. He stays on his feet, frowning when their anxiety doesn’t relent. 

He pants out a heavy breath at the rush of heat that washes over him. Grappling him by the throat and tossing him into the abyss. He touches the nape of his neck where he feels fire. Dear God it  _ hurts _ . 

His soulmate reaches for him first. Looking for safety and comfort as their panic grows, reaching a crescendo that sends him to his knees with a cry.

A member of his flock rushes to his side, a careful arm looped around his shoulder. Holding him as tears rush down his cheeks. His head tilts up, towards where those that he left to burn are running—no, just one is running away. Leaving Rook behind to die. 

Joseph blinks away the tears. Wiping at his face with the back of his hand as he stares at her struggling. He digs his hands into the dirt below him, teeth gritted as he collects the most calming wave he can gather up inside him and throws it at his soulmate with enough force to make them recoil. 

And it does. 

For the first time he gets to watch it happen. 

Rook, her fingers frantically scrambling to undo her seatbelt, suddenly goes slack. For a second she freezes, her shoulders bunching up around her neck before she drops her hands and, even from the distance he’s at, he sees her close her eyes. Her lip twitches into something he's tempted to call a smile. 

“Rook.” He tries her name, liking the way the syllables curl around his tongue. Certainly not loud enough for her to hear, he’s too weak for that. 

He struggles to his feet, leaning on the man beside him. He almost runs to her, to snap her out of the reverie that he caused. 

Idiot, he snaps at himself. He’s an idiot who’s about to watch his soulmate burn. 

But the crack of metal warping under the flames does his job for him. Her head whips around, taking in her situation for the second time, and then she’s out. She gets the buckle and is spilling out onto the floor. 

“Don’t shoot!” He yelps, holding up a hand to stop the raised guns aimed at her retreating form. “Let them run.” He amends when he gets a few confused looks. “God decides their fate now, my children. Let’s have faith that He’ll guide them back to us.”

His brothers aren’t fond of the news he comes back with. 

He limps past the gates of his compound, waving away those who insist on walking him home. “We must prepare,” he tells them. “Go and get ready, children, don’t worry about me, please.” Until they finally relent and leave him to stumble inside. 

The moment he’s through the door he’s being pinned against the wall. Thrown back only because of how harshly John rushes forward. Holding Joseph close and muttering how  _ scared  _ they all were. 

Joseph lets his brother cling to him, reaching his arms up to hold onto the back of his neck. He shushes John softly when he hears the tell tale signs of him about to cry. 

When John finally breaks apart with a red nose and sheepish smile, Joseph opens his arms again for Jacob, then Faith. 

“You’re hurt,” Jacob points out when he settles down gingerly on the couch. 

“More my soulmate’s pain then mine, brother.”

Jacob frowns, mouth twitching with words he wants to get out past his throat. He sighs, moving to sit on the coffee table, despite the numerous times Joseph has asked him not to. 

“And you aren’t hurt?” 

Joseph shrugs, “not nearly as bad as them _.”  _ He glances back towards his sister and younger brother, a smile appearing on his lips. It’s hard to keep his face like that against the still burning pain that ignites along his neck and arms, but he manages. Nothing can ruin the absolute elation he’s feeling right now. 

“I found them tonight.  _ Her _ .” Joseph sighs, his smile splitting wider. He can say that with conviction now, that his soulmate is a wonderful young  _ woman _ . “She’s on the wrong path, her mind tainted by those around her, but that’s okay. No one ever said life was easy.” He looks back at Jacob, conviction suddenly sparking in his eyes. “We need to find her.” 

“Joe—“

“Don’t argue with me. Please. Just this once, Jacob.”

Jacob snorts, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his thighs. “She came here to arrest you.” 

“I’m aware of that. Others have done worse and I’ve forgiven them. And no matter what she did it doesn’t excuse what I've done in return. I—I injured her. I nearly burnt her alive!”

John makes a startled noise in the back of his throat. Stepping forward to steady himself on Faith's shoulder. “What?”

Joseph collapses back into the couch, eyes slipping closed. He’s suddenly so tired. 

“C’mon.” Jacob stands up, grabbing Joseph’s bicep to get him on his feet. “You gotta rest. At least for a little while. We’ll find her, okay? Let me handle it.”

Joseph leans his head on Jacob’s shoulder as they walk, sagging into him. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” 

It’s in bed, curled up beneath his blankets, that he tries to reach out to her. He searches for the bond between them, finds it slightly dim. She’s not asleep, nor unconscious, she’s just ignoring him. How he wishes he could speak to her. He wishes that they could share something other than pain. 

Speaking of which, she’s still hurting. Being treated, told only by the burning sensation on his skin that switches from fire to that akin of rubbing alcohol. 

Joseph wants to apologize. He hurt her bad in the past—though indirectly—that had never been his fault. Now though? He did this to her. 

It’s hard to sleep when he knows she can’t do the same. 

Eventually though he does drift off, waking up to heavy banging on his door. It opens before he can force any sort of words out, slamming noisily against the wall, making him wince. 

Joseph sits up, shoving the blankets off and scratching at his beard. “Yes, John? What is it?” He rubs his eyes, looking off towards the window just to check the time. It must be early next morning, the sun is just barely making itself known. 

“It’s Deputy Rook, she turned up in Holland Valley. In Fall’s End.”

Joseph doesn’t let John finish his sentence. He’s up and out of bed, fixing his hair as he goes. He never undressed from the night before, thank god, and his shoes are somehow still on his feet despite how he must’ve tossed and turned. 

“What’s being done about that?” Joseph asks, pushing past John to grab his keys off the table. “Are we securing the area?” His mind has kicked into overdrive, scrambling to put things into place as he rushes outside, John at his heels. 

“Jacob has sent troops to get in position as snipers. But, lucky for us, my men were already there.”

Joseph’s steps stutter, glancing over at John. That’s right, John had been making plans to take Fall’s End. She walked right into a fight.

“Did Rook know that?”

They break apart to climb into their respective sides of the car, conversation drifting until they’re buckled and barreling out of Joseph’s compound. 

“We believe so. Some people from Fall’s End sent a transmission for help. Seems like Rook responded to that.”

Joseph, despite all his concern, smiles a little. She’s a bleeding heart, a good person, better than he ever could’ve asked for. God has truly gifted him. He took away his wife to make room for this lovely blessing of a soulmate. 

The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh. 

Most people don’t find their soulmates, they go their whole lives feeling the pain—all the emotions—of a complete stranger. Only a few are lucky enough to meet them. Of course God wouldn’t leave him alone. 

Joseph doesn’t bother being subtle. The entire town is filled with John’s men after all. Rook already knows she’s caught, he can feel her fear. 

“I’ll go alone,” Joseph declares as he pulls the car to a stop beside the church. “Tell Jacob not to kill her if she runs, please.”

John snorts, like it’s a laughing matter at all. He hands a radio off to Joseph, still smiling. “We’re not all incompetent, Joseph. We know what to do.”

Joseph hopes so. He’ll strangle either of his brothers if they harm his soulmate. 

There are people lined up on their knees outside, ready for transport with their arms bound behind their backs, but Rook isn’t among them. He cocks his head to the side, eyes scanning and scanning until the radio at his hip buzzes to life with Jacob’s rough voice. 

“In the church, Joe, she’s alone. Try not to get yourself killed.”

Rook is curled up at the very back, knees pulled up to her chest as she tries sinking further into the corner she pushed herself into. She glances up when the door open, hands pressing into her stomach as he walks closer. 

She’s bleeding. Not deadly, if the ache in his own gut says anything at all. He didn’t notice it until now. He blames it on the adrenaline for getting in the way of that. 

“Get away from me.” It comes out a whisper, so soft Joseph needs to strain to hear it. “You’re  _ sick.”  _

He bends down, far enough away that she can’t strike him if she chooses to do so. 

“How can you say that?” His voice cracks a little. This isn’t how he imagined their first words going. “We’re soulmates. We’ve spent our entire lives feeling what the other feels. You can’t deny the connection we have.” 

“Just watch me.” 

Joseph looks away, suddenly disheartened. “You’ll learn to love me,” he declares, forcing himself to believe that. He reaches out to touch her, brushing along the bandages that coat her arms and wrap around what little he can see of her stomach. The burns he gifted her. “You need me to take care of you, and in that time you’ll realize that you love me.” He smiles, his whole body relaxing as the final lock slides into place. “Just watch,” he quotes back at her, grasping the back of her neck to draw her near until their foreheads bump. She’s curiously still, mystified by their closeness. “Just watch and see how long you can resist my love.” 


	2. Chapter 2

He had only wanted to ease her suffering, he hated to see the way she writhed in bed, begging for painkillers and any kind of drugs he could offer. He tried telling her that Eden’s Gate doesn’t offer those kinds of things, even for burns such as hers. ‘It’s only a crutch, you don’t need it. You’re too strong for that nonsense.’ She yelled at him for that. Threw anything she could get her hands on. 

“We have bliss.”

“Bliss?” She blinked owlishly up at him. Body going curiously still. “That’ll make it stop hurting?” 

He nodded. 

“Please.”

He gave her the right amount. He watched the dosage oh so carefully as Faith administered it—Rook wouldn’t escape him that easily. He wouldn’t lose her to the bliss.

The burns will heal on their own soon enough. They’ll scar, no doubt, but Joseph will teach her how to embrace those imperfections. That conversation, going over it in his head again and again for when she comes off the bliss, takes up the majority of his mental space for a solid week. 

He has other things to worry about now that the reaping has started, and so he’s tempted to blame that on why he let things get out of hand. After a week Joseph orders the bliss to stop, anymore and things will turn nasty. He didn’t think anything of it. But Rook, she reacted differently than most do when coming down. 

It had only been a week. She shouldn’t be in so much pain. 

She’s crying, shaking out of her skin and clawing at the bedsheets. The chains that once shackled her ankles to the bed are all but gone—she can hardly piece her thoughts together, much less get out of bed. 

She calls out his name repeatedly, begging for mercy. 

Joseph drags himself forward until he can perch on the edge of the bed. He touches her forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat that collected there. 

“Make it stop,” she whimpers, curling in further on herself. Dragging her knees up to her chest. 

He grabs a hold of the nape of her neck, pulling her head into his lap. “It’ll end soon.” He leans down to kiss her cheek, feeling the way she shivers at his touch. “Your body is simply adjusting.”

She cracks an eye open, it’s foggy and clouded with remnants of bliss. “Why would you give that to me? Did you do it on purpose?”

He lets out a watery laugh. Looking away. In her state, half dead as she is, she probably can’t tell that he’s suffering too. They’re soulmates, after all. He’s never had to endure coming down from the bliss, the few times he got exposed to it, and so he’s not used to the way it feels like his skeleton wants to climb out of his skin. 

“Of course not.” He pets her hair. Scratching at her scalp when she groans. “I’d never harm you on purpose. It’s only been a week, you shouldn’t be having this reaction.” He shakes his head. No use explaining it now, when she’s out of her mind. 

“Tell me what I can do to make it better.”

Rook makes a tiny, pathetic noise that tugs at his heartstrings. “Dunno. Hot.”

“Hot? You’re hot?”

She nods. Nuzzling further into his lap. He likes it—even if she might not realize what she’s doing—the contact is nice. 

“How about a cold bath?”

“Shower.”

His eyes widen slightly, index finger tracing over her eyebrow and down the bridge of her nose. “You won’t be able to stand to shower.”

She manages to look up at him, but he can see how much effort it takes. He feels a dull throb start up around his temples. He can’t complain, he deserves to experience her pain right about now. 

“No bath. I’ll drown.”

“I won’t let that happen. I’ll hold you up.”

“Shower,” she persists, “soulmate, please.”

He takes in a shaky breath. “It’s Joseph. You know that.”

“Mhm.” 

Then she’s gone again. Drifting in and out of consciousness. Whimpering and squirming as aches rack through her body. 

Seeing her so ill, experiencing it himself, Joseph is surprised he managed to stay on his feet for so long. It’s getting to him, though he hates to admit it. He wants to be the strong, pious figure his flock looks to, but that’s nearly impossible when Rook is like this. 

He has to keep reminding himself that she’s not to blame. He can’t hate her for this. But resentment grows inside him at each day that passes and she continues to stay sick off of the stuff they use to help people. 

Joseph has his doubts sometimes, where he assumes she must be evil if the bliss is having this effect on her. That God is playing a cruel joke on him. 

He gently puts her head back down, standing up so he can lift her up in his arms. She’s light. Lost too much weight from lying in bed all day. 

He’ll apologize for that when she’s lucid. 

He helps her down the hall, kicking open the bathroom door. He kneels down to place her on the cool tiles. She’s half propped up on the bathtub, her neck at an angle that has him worrying as he twists the tap on. 

True to what she said, she is hot. When he touches her forehead he can feel the heat radiating off her skin. And so he makes the water as cold as it’ll go. If her fever doesn’t break he’ll add ice to the bath—he might have to consult Jacob on that one though, he’d rather not give her hypothermia. 

He’s tempted to put the stopper in, to give her a bath. It’d put him more at ease. Less likely for her to fall and get hurt if she didn’t have to stand. That, and he’d have to help her balance. He’s not sure he’ll be able to control himself. 

Either way he’s getting wet. 

Joseph stands up to take off his shirt and roll up his jeans slightly. He moves onto her next. Crouching down to remove the nightgown he’d put her in a few days prior. 

“Joseph?”

He hushes her, looking away from the peaks of her breasts and the flash of pink between her legs. He catches sight of the start of hair re-growing under her arms when he guides them around his neck. He tries not to pay attention to the stubble starting to form below on her folds, where he most definitely won’t shave for her. Not when she’s like this. 

“Step over the edge, come on.” He helps lift her leg. A hand on her thigh to steady her. “There you go. Lean on the wall for a second.” He lets go of her leg, keeping his fingertips on her hip as he leans down to tug at the handle—making a spray of water rain down on them. He winces at the immediate effect it has on his jeans, causing them to stick uncomfortably tight to his legs. 

Even after all the baptisms he's not used to the feeling. 

She sighs at the feeling of water on her skin, sagging against the wall. 

“You’re okay?” He asks, raising his voice above the shower, “you can handle yourself while I get some clothes?” And change the sheets. They’re starting to stink of sweat. 

She nods, but her eyes don’t open. He wonders how much she’s actually hearing him say. 

He must be gone for only ten minutes at the most, but when he comes back the stopper is in the tub and water is coming out steadily if the spigot. Shower replaced in substitution for a bath. No big deal if not for the way she’s got her head underwater, drowning herself. The very thing she claimed she had been afraid of.

Joseph stands there for too long, just staring at the sight she makes. At how _bad_ it hurts his throat. He looks up towards the sky—at God—he has so many questions about what’s happening with his life right about now. Is this punishment or a test?

He considers leaving her there. The same way he had considered, on nights where he sat watching Rook sleep, holding a pillow over her face until she begins to squirm and kick. It’d be over soon enough though, eventually the fighting would stop and it’d all be over. 

He wonders if that would hurt him too. If he’d actually be able to carry out the action without killing himself too. 

He sighs, stepping forward to grab her. She fights him, when she looks up and her eyes clear of bliss for just a moment, realizing it’s him. He hates those moments of clarity, when she’s not in jaw dropping pain and begging for relief no matter who it comes from. 

She doesn’t like him. 

But he manages to get her back to bed. She literally hisses at him when he tries to dress her, and so he tosses them at her instead. Turning on his heel and walking out, slamming the door as he goes. 

It’s childish, a wrathful little act of rebellion. But right now he’s moments away from breaking down. He wants nothing more than to have things go back to how they were before he fucked up and nearly killed her. 

He makes his way to the kitchen before he realizes his mistake. Leaving her alone is no longer an option. He takes a deep breath, calms himself like the adult he is. 

“Rook?” He raps the door with his knuckles, pushing it open a second later when he gets a grunt in response. 

She’s lying on the bed, fully clothed and dripping wet onto the new sheets he dressed the mattress with. Her eyes are closed, but her body is tense. The burns on her back and arms are agitated—he feels it himself. He should change the bandages, they’re soaking wet from the shower.

If he wasn’t so tired he would've thought to remove them first. And truth be told he’s still fucking exhausted. He takes off his jeans, the cuffs wet, and climbs into bed beside her. She doesn’t fight him when he wraps an arm around her waist. 

The amount of times he’s thought of ending her misery is shameful—and he knows how bad it would hurt him. He’s heard those stories. How it feels like a part of yourself is ripped straight from your core when your soulmate passes. But this is too much. The Voice is too loud. These little peaceful moments they share keep him hopeful. When he gets to feel the warmth of her body pressed against his chest he can believe of a better future for the two of them. 

God wouldn’t forsake him like this. He’s made mistakes in the past but he’s trying to fix that. Surely he’s done nothing to deserve this rejection. He squeezes her tighter, ignores the slight gasp she makes in response. Maybe she’s here to better him and the Project. Perhaps it could use a...gentler touch. That’s why she’s here. He has to convince himself of that, because if it’s not true then God has given him nothing more than a burden.

He can’t live with that.

He won’t. 

He shuffles closer to her. The bends of his knees slotting with her own. He lays a kiss to the crown of her head. 

_He won’t._


End file.
